


Faking a Difference

by UppityBitch



Category: The Vampire Diaries & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Humor, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-16 00:23:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13624611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UppityBitch/pseuds/UppityBitch
Summary: Fed up with her job, Caroline wanders into a charity to volunteer. But as much as she enjoys the new challenge, she can’t help but notice something is a bit...off. And no sexy accent is going to distract her from finding out what’s really going on.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [klarolinedrabbles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/klarolinedrabbles/gifts).



> This gift is for klarolinedrabbles, who runs one of my absolute favorite blogs ever! Thank you so much for patiently answering the seemingly endless asks you get and supplying us with much-needed KC fandom goodness! You asked for AU human, and I hope you enjoy your gift (the plot kind of exploded while I was writing; hope you don’t mind the extra reading. :)

            _I’ve witnessed more intelligence when my cat nearly strangled himself in my underwear drawer_ , Caroline thought to herself, marching angrily down the street, only a block from the office, where, until fifteen minutes ago, she was employed as lead web designer. She cringed when she thought back to the marketing meeting she just fled, where the executive team unveiled their latest marketing campaign for a weight loss shake called _Salvatore Shot_.

            She watched in utter disbelief as the owner’s idiot son, Stefan, gave his presentation. An insipid mix of what looked like _The Bachelor_ contestants appeared on the screen, while a sensual-but-hollow voiceover proclaimed, “Just because you’re a strong, independent woman doesn’t mean you stop caring about your appearance. Shed those unwanted pounds with the Salvatore Shot.” As applause broke out in the room, the cheery tagline, “Feminism doesn’t equal fat,” flashed across the screen before it faded to black.

            It was the wakeup call Caroline needed to finally quit the corporate job that was slowly draining her soul. Of course, now that the adrenaline had worn off (and several blisters had formed from stomping around in her Rene Caovilla heels), she was starting to panic as she realized for the first time in her highly organized life, she didn’t have a plan. As she stubbornly kept marching, she noticed that the once-empty storefront across from a coffee shop she liked appeared to be suddenly bustling with activity.

            A statuesque blonde with fierce blue eyes was loudly directing two impossibly attractive men who were carrying multiple boxes. Curious, Caroline moved closer, reading the plain black lettering in the glass window that proclaimed the new business was called _Pies for Charity_. Despite the lackluster name, she was intrigued by the idea of volunteering. “Excuse me,” she called out to the blonde, who immediately snapped to attention and looked at her in an oddly suspicious manner, “How do I sign up?”

            The two men stopped unloading boxes to appraise her; the one with dirty blonde curls smirked as he asked, “Sign up for what, sweetheart?”

            She refused to be thrown off by that unexpected sexy accent. “It’s Caroline, _not_ sweetheart.” She gestured toward the storefront and explained, “To volunteer.” At the group’s confused glances, she asked, “This _is_ a charity, right?”

            The woman hurriedly answered, “Of course! Um...yes, we would be happy to accept volunteers.” She smiled and said, “I’m Rebekah and this is Klaus and Enzo.”

            “Do much baking sweetheart,” Klaus asked teasingly, flashing an unexpected pair of dimples as he studied her more closely.

            Feeling her temper flare up, Caroline crossed her arms and said snidely, “Owning a vagina doesn’t magically give me baking skills. I’m the lead web designer at Silas & Salvatore Inc.” Scowling slightly, she added in annoyance, “Or, at least I was until 15 minutes ago.”

            Softening slightly at her unexpected revelation, Klaus replied gently, “Look, I don’t think it’s a good idea, love. It’s too...unpredictable at the moment. We’re just getting organized and aren’t sure what...uh...skill set we’ll need in the future.”

            “Come on, mate. I think Gorgeous would be good for us. Give our little enterprise some legitimacy and professional polish,” Enzo cheerfully disagreed, nodding his dark head at her with a grin.

            She rolled her eyes. Apparently, if she was planning on doing this, she’d need to get used to the stupid nicknames. “For the past eight years, I’ve been working in web, mobile and application design — from creating responsive page layouts to managing multiple project and marketing teams. I am well-versed in UX design practices along with frontend development using HTML, CSS, and JavaScript with a bit of coding on the side.” She eyed the plain lettering of the storefront sign once more and added confidently, “If your digital presence looks anything like your storefront advertising, you _definitely_ need me.”

            Rebekah let out a bark of laughter, elbowing Enzo as they traded amused glances. “I like her.”

            Klaus sighed, glaring at his coworkers even as he shook Caroline’s hand, telling her, “Welcome to the team, sweetheart.”

* * *

 

            Caroline had experienced her fair share of unorthodox employee orientations during her career; when she started at Silas & Salvatore Inc., they expected all the new hires to submit daily journal entries about their feelings, but her initial foray into volunteer work still struck her as odd. Her first indication that Pies for Charity was unconventional was when she began quizzing the trio about their organization so that she could get a feel for the culture and create a winning web design that would maximize their fundraising.

            When she asked what cause they represented, they looked slightly alarmed before Rebekah hurriedly answered, “Oh, it’s for the starving children in...Africa.”

            Nodding, Caroline then asked if there was a specific country they were focusing on, and all three of them immediately responded with the name of a country. _Three different names_. Flashing her a dimpled smile, Klaus clearly tried to diffuse the awkwardness by telling her, “It’s probably best that we don’t limit our focus at the beginning. We can start with the entire continent and then re-evaluate later on, right, love?”

* * *

 

            Despite the first few bizarre meetings with the trio, she’d ignored that nagging voice in her head that something wasn’t right and continued to work with them as she was determined to create a winning design for their charity. She’d also never felt so relaxed while working and she enjoyed getting to know her coworkers a bit more. _Not to mention the way her heart did that fluttery thing whenever she caught Klaus staring at her._ She thought she’d been sending him all the right signals, letting him know she was into him, but so far, he’d either failed to notice or he wasn’t interested. _She couldn’t decide which was worse_.

            Which is why she was determined to take a more direct approach today. She’d arranged a quick meeting with Klaus under the guise of needing to review the color scheme and typography, and in between discussing the benefits of pre-installed fonts, she kept getting distracted by his dimples and seductive smirk. Clearing her throat, she said in an overly casual tone, “So, my friend Bonnie is a local sculptor and has a couple of pieces displayed at the Expression Gallery. I couldn’t help but notice that you sometimes draw on the edges of our receipts, so I thought you might like to go with me sometime?”

            His gray eyes widened, but the look of surprise that flitted across his handsome face was replaced quickly with something akin to interest as he leaned over the counter and his voice dropped to a sexy growl, “Well, sweetheart, as it so happens...”

            Unfortunately, he was cut off by Enzo barging into the kitchen, carrying a large box in front of him as he asked, “Klaus, this is the package of...” noticing Caroline was in the room, he paused briefly and then continued with, “The ingredients we requested have arrived. Where did you want them?”

            Standing a bit straighter, Klaus quickly directed Enzo toward some shelves in a back office. After their coworker left, Klaus was quiet for a moment, as though contemplating something. He finally sighed and said, “Sweetheart, I appreciate the offer, but unfortunately this isn’t the right time for me to be...distracted at the moment.”

            Feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment and indignation at being referred to as a ‘distraction’, she hated how she thought she heard a hint of regret in his tone. Squaring her shoulders, she flashed him an overly bright smile and replied, “It’s fine, really. I normally keep my professional and social lives separate anyway. If you get a chance, you should go check out the gallery though. We have some really talented local artists.”

            “Love, it not that I don’t —” he started in a gentle tone, reaching out to grasp her hand.

            Caroline quickly moved away, gathering her laptop and purse as she gave him another fake smile. As she fiddled with the silver buckle on her purse, she said reassuringly, “Klaus, really, it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s all — fine. I think I have enough for this phase of the project, so I should get going. I’ll see you later.” She managed to get out the door without further mortification, and decided to sulk across the street at her favorite coffee shop, Malcontent Coffee.

            She used to stop by a few times a week because she enjoyed their cutely named ‘pseudo dark side lattes’, plus the two pretty-boy owners, Marcel and Lucien, were always nice to look at. She hadn’t been by since she’d started volunteering across from them, partly because she’d gotten the impression from watching her new coworkers that there was some sort of rivalry going on between the two shops and she had no interest in whatever was going on. The odd glances, the awkward silences and whispered conversations convinced her to stay out of it.

            As she stood in front of the register, Marcel brightened as he recognized her. “Caroline, haven’t seen you in a bit. Everything going ok?”

            She nodded politely and explained, “I started volunteering across the street; their web pages were a bit more complicated to redesign and have been taking up quite a bit of my time.”

            Lucien poked his head out of the back office and said with a charming lilt to his voice, “Did I hear correctly that you’re donating invaluable computer skills to the degenerates who run that questionable pie shop?”

            “Seriously? Look, I don’t know what bizarre pissing contest you guys have going on, but leave me out of it,” she said, rolling her eyes as she inhaled the heavenly aroma of vanilla and caramel with a hint of garam masala.

            Exchanging an amused glance with Marcel, Lucien said in a placating tone, “Easy there, we’re just wondering if you’d extend us the same courtesy, Caroline.” Frowning slightly, he explained, “Our site’s been glitching and it’s beyond our paltry IT skills to fix it. Any chance you could help us out?”

            Rattling an empty coffee cup, Marcel said in a pleading tone, “Free lattes for the next century...or until the Tampa Bay Bucs win the Super Bowl.”

            Giggling, she agreed, “Fine. But they better come with some of those saffron sweet potato muffins.” She glanced at the clock and realized the edits to the landing page that Rebekah requested still needed to be done, so she told them both, “I’ll come around in the next couple of days and take a look.”

            Waving good-bye, she headed out, feeling a bit lighter as she realized that just because Klaus wasn’t interested in her didn’t mean that others wouldn’t be. She could have sworn that both Marcel and Lucien seemed to have perked up considerably when they noticed her walk in...

* * *

 

            The next day, Caroline had planned to avoid Klaus by working with Rebekah on the revisions she requested, but when she arrived at the shop, the demanding blonde was nowhere to be found. She had just finished telling Enzo to have Rebekah call her when she was ready to review the new layout when Klaus intercepted her at the door.

            His gray eyes seemed to light up when he saw her, but his voice was uncharacteristically soft and hesitant. “Caroline, I’m pleased you stopped by. How goes the website redesign?”

            _Why did he have to look even better today than he did yesterday when he rejected her?_ She tried to ignore the way his dimples cut into his cheeks when he smiled at her, and she told herself that the collection of necklaces he always seemed to wear was clichéd and off-putting rather than immensely appealing. Putting on her best professional tone, she answered reassuringly, “The project deliverables are on schedule. Rebekah has agreed to the fixed-width layout for consistency across platforms and I’ve input her latest edits to the focal point design along with the navigation features we discussed. The menus and links are functioning properly and I just need someone on your staff to do a final review before we re-launch.”

            He nodded, the slightly glazed look in his gray eyes familiar to her whenever she discussed web design with anyone outside of the industry. Shaking his head slightly, he replied, “That sounds...complicated, but I trust our business venture in your capable hands, sweetheart.” He paused, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he seemed to search for the right words to say. “And um...how are you doing? We didn’t get a chance to talk again yesterday...”

            Blue eyes widening in alarm at the thought of having to revisit her humiliation with the object of her crush so soon, she quickly said in a brisk tone, “There’s no need. We’re friends and that’s great. Everything is...great.” Giving him what she hoped was a convincing smile, she hurriedly placed her laptop back in its red leather case, tucking a few blonde strands behind her ear as she hastily told him, “I should be heading out anyway. I’ve uploaded the latest draft of the site to your company’s shared drive, so if you could take a look at it this morning, I’d appreciate it.”  

            A frown marred his handsome face, but he nodded in agreement and told her, “I’ll do that after I discuss a few business items with Enzo.” He turned to head toward the kitchen, but stopped suddenly to look at her once more. Her questioning brow seemed to throw off his normally confident demeanor and he awkwardly added, “Caroline...you look...I mean to say that I think...um...”

            His bizarre words were mercifully cut short by Enzo shouting through the kitchen door, “Klaus! On a bit of a timetable, mate!”

            Klaus told her abruptly, “You look pretty today. Every day, actually. That’s all,” and then stomped toward the kitchen until he was out of sight.

            _What the hell was that?_ Shaking her head in confusion, she walked out the door, only managing to get a few feet before she realized that she left her phone on the counter. Groaning at the likelihood of another awkward-yet-confusing encounter with Klaus, she decided to quietly sneak back in the store, hoping that he and Enzo were still in the kitchen and wouldn’t hear her come in.

            She breathed a sigh of relief when she managed to tuck her phone into her laptop case without incident, turning to quietly walk out of the store again when she couldn’t help but overhear Enzo telling Klaus, “It’s gone up in price and the supplier is getting nervous. We may have to take him out of the equation.”

            “Not yet,” Klaus said in an authoritative voice. “Not until he’s given us everything. Then we can talk about moving the kilos to a neutral location. Soon, we’ll be ready to make our move.”

            Caroline managed not to gasp as she stood frozen in place, Enzo and Klaus’ damning words playing over and over in her mind. _Supplier. Kilos. Take him out_. Heart pounding, she realized that it sounded like her coworkers were talking about drugs. As ridiculous as it seemed to her, based on her late-night crime drama marathons, they likely were coke dealers. _Holy shit. Pies for Charity was a front for smuggling coke_.


	2. Chapter 2

            Caroline’s thoughts were racing as she recalled all those nagging little moments when she questioned the odd inner workings of Klaus’ business model. How they only received a handful of customers throughout the week and yet somehow maintained funding for their enterprise. How the same number of online orders appeared several times each week. Or the fact that their _creepy,_ _unmarked, windowless_ delivery van parked outside never seemed to go on pie deliveries. Or how they were ridiculously vague about what cause they were supporting.

            As she eyed the room critically, it made sense now why there was no decor to speak of — everything was very stark and clinical and other than a random poster of the African continent on one wall, there were no clues to indicate that their pies were for fundraising. It was the perfect cover; using a charity to launder their drug profits. Realizing the incredible danger she was in, she quickly exited the store, planning to regroup at her house with a bottle of wine and the largest tub of caramel brownie-laden ice cream she could find. And then another bottle of wine. And possibly another until she could forget the wildly misplaced regret she felt when she realized that she couldn’t possibly be around Klaus anymore now that she knew who he really was. It was just a stupid crush and she would get over it. Probably.

            Her plans were interrupted when Marcel startled her, calling out, “Caroline! Any chance you could take a look at our site now?” His warm brown eyes twinkled as he added gleefully, “Lucien is about to tear his hair out; which will just make that little bald spot in the back more noticeable.” 

            Sighing, she rubbed her forehead, grumbling, “Fine. But with the day I’m having, I need a bigger bribe than a muffin.”

            He nodded eagerly and with a mock serious tone he said, “Understood. One enormous slab of praline fudge cake coming up.” Linking his arm with hers, he led her into Malcontent Coffee, bypassing the main counter in favor of the back office. He gestured to an office chair beside a small table and told her he’d be right back with her delicious bribe.

            Already salivating at the thought of the decadent dessert, she almost forgot her recent discovery about the trio across the street. Sighing heavily, she chose to push those chaotic thoughts from her mind as she needed more time to decide if she was going to the police with her suspicions or if she should just avoid them and keep her mouth shut.

            The frozen computer screen in front of her caught her eye and she grimaced when she saw the poor coffee shop guys were experiencing the “spinning wheel of death” so common with that model. Deciding to get started, she used a few hot key tricks that finally unlocked the system. Once inside, she intended to do a quick search for their design software, but instead she found several tabs open to multiple spreadsheets. As she went to minimize them, she couldn’t help but notice that the spreadsheets appeared to be for the same quarter with the same transactions listed. However, what caught her attention was the drastic variation in profits reported. One spreadsheet showed significantly higher profits — _tens of thousands of dollars higher._

            Standing up abruptly, she attempted to calm her racing heart as she tried to make sense of what she’d seen. It was too much of a coincidence that she would stumble across two different instances of illegal activity in one day — clearly they were connected. But how? Maybe Klaus and his friends were dealing coke out of their shop and Marcel and Lucien laundered the money? That was a thing, right? Drug dealers couldn’t just walk into a bank and deposit their profits; they needed a middle man to keep away the police and IRS.

            Legs shaking, Caroline realized she needed to get out of there before Marcel and Lucien realized she was onto them. Unfortunately, before she could make her escape, Marcel returned, his normally friendly smile replaced with something cold and calculating that made her stomach sink. He was gripping a handful of long zip ties and a roll of duct tape. She impulsively put the rolling black office chair between them, as though it would somehow prevent him from attacking her.

            She shakily gestured toward his creepy kidnapper supplies and said, “Those don’t look like the dessert bribe I was expecting. I’m not sure what kind of IT folks you’ve used before, but they seem to offer more exotic services than what I provide.”

            Marcel quickly whipped out a black handgun, pointing it at her with ease. His tone was casual, as though they were merely continuing their discussion from earlier about his computer issues. “You know, Caroline, at first, we thought you were playing the long game — casually visiting the store a few times a week to earn our trust and learn all our dirty little secrets. After all, you just _happened_ to start volunteering across the street the instant Klaus and his crew opened up their shop.” He cocked his head to the side, studying her carefully. A sly grin spread across his face as he mockingly told her, “But we’ve been watching you all this time and finally figured it out — you have no idea what’s going on, do you?”

            Despite the fact that she had a gun pointed at her, she could feel her temper flare at his condescending tone. “Klaus and his friends are drug dealers and they use your business to launder their money.” At Marcel’s amused expression, she angrily threw up her hands, yelling, “Or with all the random animosity between your two shops, maybe you guys are rival drug lords and you’re pissed that Klaus is moving in on your turf.”

            He laughed heartily, his gun only wavering slightly as he seemed to thoroughly enjoy her enraged expression. “That’s fucking hilarious. Klaus and his friends aren’t dealers, you nitwit. They’re all undercover cops trying to bust our operation. We use the coffee shop as a legit cover while we move our product.”

            Klaus was a cop? _There was a uniform to go with that sexy accent?_ She chastised herself for having ridiculously inappropriate thoughts at a time like this and responded in irritation, “I don’t get why you’re involving me in your mess though; I’m nobody special.”

            Marcel’s twisted grin as he stepped closer to her filled her with revulsion. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’re very special — to Klaus.” At her incredulous expression, he laughed. “He’s terrible at hiding how he feels about you. You should have seen him the other day, pacing back and forth in the parking lot clutching a stupid sunflower and rehearsing what he was going to say to you. But then he managed to fumble his words with you and just left the sunflower on the counter where you assumed Enzo had brought it in for Rebekah.”

            She gasped at his revelation, everything falling into place now that Marcel filled in the missing pieces. She had been in deep design mode, barely acknowledging Klaus when he walked into the shop because she was trying to resolve a frustrating broken links issue. He had mumbled a few phrases while she was working, but she only nodded at him, not really paying attention. Later on, she couldn’t figure out why Klaus had been so grumpy, and now she realized it was because she’d clearly missed his carefully crafted speech.  

            Marcel interrupted her thoughts, continuing his explanation. “The moment we realized his team had incriminating surveillance on our operation, we realized we needed to make a trade — your life for the footage.” He grabbed her, tightly binding her wrists together and forcing her back into the chair where he proceeded to also bind her ankles.

            Caroline hated how fear had seemed to paralyze her. She knew she should be doing _something_ , but it was all too much to handle and she couldn’t stop staring at the gun. Despite the fact that he had set it down when he grabbed her, the inherent threat of violence made her uncharacteristically submissive. On TV, guns always seemed shiny and bigger somehow, but the dull black finish of the one he’d pointed at her was more sinister. _Because it was real_. She realized that even if Klaus and his team gave Marcel and Lucien the evidence they had on them, there was still no guarantee she would survive this nightmare. _She needed a plan_.

            “Lucien will be contacting Klaus and his team soon, so just sit there quietly while we negotiate the trade,” Marcel explained with a wink. “You and Klaus will be back to your painfully awkward will-they-won’t-they interactions before you know it.”

            She eyed the piece of gray duct tape he held between his fingers. Furious despite her growing fear, she spat, “Go to hell. And FYI — your honey corn muffins taste like soggy Corn Flakes. And another thing —”

            The rest of Caroline’s colorful diatribe was cut off by the sticky duct tape Marcel slapped over her mouth. He chuckled at the rage he detected in her glare. “I’ll be sure to pass along your critiques to our kitchen staff. Now sit tight and I’ll be back to collect you once we’ve reached an agreement with Klaus and his team.”

            Once her captor was gone, she started tugging uselessly at the thick black plastic on her wrists and ankles. At least Marcel had bound her hands in front of her, so it was slightly less uncomfortable than it could be. She started to remove the tape that was uncomfortably pulling at her skin, but she hesitated to do anything that obvious to show she wasn’t cooperating. _Not that she was going to just sit there_.

            Once he told her that he and Lucien intended to trade her for incriminating surveillance of their drug operation, she started thinking of ways she could help put Marcel and Lucien away. She had no guarantees that she’d survive this and she wasn’t about to trust the man who tied her up at gunpoint. The spreadsheets — the ones that showed two vastly different profit margins for the coffee shop — that was the evidence that could be used against Marcel and Lucien.

            She marveled that her captor left her alone with their laptop, but she assumed he must have thought the programs were still frozen and that she’d be too afraid to move from her chair to investigate. But he didn’t realize how well she could multi-task — she could be afraid _and_ snoop around his laptop at the same time. Unfortunately, she didn’t have Klaus’ email, so she couldn’t send him the files she discovered, which meant she’d have to improvise.

            Crossing her fingers that Klaus actually followed her instructions and was reviewing the website like she asked, she quickly logged in as an admin and placed an enormous text box in the middle of their landing page with the message, “Help! Marcel and Lucien have me in their shop. Attached these files from their computer — Caroline.” It was a challenge typing with her wrists bound together, but she felt a small smile of triumph try to form around her duct tape as she uploaded a zip file she created that included not only their incriminating spreadsheets but also several suspicious-looking files with what looked like code names, places and dates. She quickly shutdown the laptop when she heard footsteps coming back to the office where she was being held.

            Marcel poked his head inside with a disturbingly cheerful grin. “It’s your lucky day, Caroline. Klaus readily agreed to our terms and says he’ll come alone with the evidence against us at the old warehouse outside of town. “This will all be over soon,” he breezily said, pulling her to her feet and leading her out of the room.  

* * *

 

            Caroline watched Klaus cautiously approach the abandoned warehouse through a broken window upstairs. His jaw was clenched and while he held his hand up to show he was unarmed, it was clear from his twitching fingers that he wanted to curl them into fists and punch something. As he crossed the threshold, he called out, “Caroline?! Has he hurt you?”

            She felt the thick plastic digging into her skin, causing her hands to tingle as the circulation was cut off. She grimaced as Marcel lightly pressed the barrel of his gun between her shoulder blades. Somehow managing to keep her voice from shaking, she yelled down at him, “I’m fine! But seriously, there has to be an easier way to get my attention, Klaus!”

            She could hear the faintest hint of surprised amusement in his tone as he answered, “This seems rather effective, sweetheart.”

            Marcel roughly pushed her into a dusty corner of the upstairs loft, commanding her, “Stay there.” He waved his gun at her one last time before descending the rusting stairs. He stopped halfway across the room, leveling his gun at Klaus’ head. “Toss the USB drive to me. Once I’ve left, you can go rescue your girl.”

            Klaus nodded curtly, simply telling him, “Next time,” and then threw the device at Marcel’s feet.

            “There won’t be a next time, Klaus. Lucien and I have already made plans to disappear.” He gave Klaus a mocking salute with the drive, keeping his gun pointed at him as he slowly backed out of the warehouse.

            Klaus’ heavy footsteps were thudding up the stairs toward her before Lucien drove their getaway vehicle out of the parking lot. The concern she saw in his gray eyes caused a lump to form in her throat and she blinked rapidly, trying to keep from crying. She hated feeling weak, but Marcel and Lucien took away her power with their actions and she wasn’t sure when she would feel safe again.

            “Sweetheart, are you alright,” he asked, quickly cutting off her restraints and eyeing her closely for injuries.

            She leaned into the warmth of his touch, drawing strength from him. “I’m fine. They didn’t hurt me. Just kind of scared me, is all,” she reluctantly admitted.

            He gently rubbed the angry red lines the sharp plastic had made in her skin. “I shouldn’t have involved you in my operation. It was foolish of me to put you in danger like that just because I thought having a civilian volunteer for us would help to sell our cover.”

            “Yeah, next time, you should read me in on the situation,” Caroline told him, lacing her fingers into his.

            Klaus snorted in amusement. “ _Read you in?_ Can I assume you’re a bit of a crime drama enthusiast, love? Because I hate to dash your expectations, but those shows are appallingly inaccurate.”

            She raised an eyebrow as she argued, “Really? Because my TV marathons taught me enough to suspect you guys were drug dealers and either laundering money through Marcel and Lucien’s coffee shop or you guys were rival drug lords fighting over the same turf.”

            Lips quirking, he said, “Cop actually. Although apparently not a very good one if this latest undercover assignment is anything to go by.” Smirking he added, “But I did save the girl.”

            “Yeah, and I saved you, so we’re even,” she countered with a sly smile. At his confusion, she explained, “I sent you an SOS message on your website, which you clearly didn’t see, so we’ll have to work on that. But, the important thing is that I attached a zip file full of shady-looking information I found on Marcel and Lucien’s laptop.” She added wryly, “I’m guessing your team should be able to analyze it and figure out where the bad guys are heading.”

            His gray eyes grew wide as he processed what she said, he opened and closed his mouth as though unable to properly form words. Unable to hold it in any longer, Caroline blurted out, “The sunflower was for me. I’m special.” Squeezing her eyes shut in embarrassment, she rambled, “To you, I mean...uh...see, Marcel told me that he saw you in the parking lot with the flower and you were practicing what you were going to say to me.” She cautiously peeked at him, suddenly more confident as she saw the desire reflected in his gaze. “He said that’s why they took me. Because I’m special. To you.”

            Klaus tugged gently on her hands, pulling her close until their foreheads touched. “Yes. They leveraged the one person I would willingly compromise my operation to keep safe. I was gobsmacked from that very first day when you told me that owning a vagina didn’t magically give one baking skills.” Chuckling, he added, “And then you proceeded to argue your way onto my team by simultaneously flaunting your intimidating skillset and mocking our storefront.” Clearly relishing the blush that crept up her neck, he rumbled, “You were confounding and utterly charming and had this light about you that bathes everyone in its brilliance. And I need more.”

            Throughout her career, Caroline had built a sterling reputation for articulating the most complex web design terminology to clients of all sizes and industries. She prided herself on her impressive communication skills, and yet, all she seemed to be able to utter was, “Good.” And then she grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him with a feverish passion that left them both breathless.

            He leaned back slightly, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose before telling her, “I’m taking you out tonight, sweetheart. For what I hope will be the first of many dates. And I’d also like to offer you a job.”

            Taken aback, she tried to calm the fluttering of her heart at his words, excited that he was interested in her. Then, she focused on the other part of his invitation. “A job?”

            “Of course. You’ve displayed a real knack for data mining in high-pressure situations and we could really use you on our team,” he told her. With a charming grin, he asked, “What do you say? Are you interested, love?”

            With a teasing wink, she replied, “I might be. As it so happens, I’m in between jobs at the moment.”


End file.
